A vain, silly, extravagant creature, with a very able and
ambitious husband who knows her through and through--knows that
she has lied to him about her age, her income, her social
position, about everything that silly women lie about--knows that
she is incapable of fidelity to any principle or any person; and
yet could not help loving her--could not help his man's instinct
to make use of her for his own advancement with Barras.
NAPOLEON (in a stealthy, coldly furious whisper). This is your
revenge, you she cat, for having had to give me the letters.
LADY. Nonsense! Or do you mean that YOU are that sort of man?
NAPOLEON (exasperated, clasps his hands behind him, his fingers
twitching, and says, as he walks irritably away from her to the
fireplace). This woman will drive me out of my senses. (To her.)
Begone.
LADY (seated immovably). Not without that letter.
NAPOLEON. Begone, I tell you. (Walking from the fireplace to the
vineyard and back to the table.) You shall have no letter. I
don't like you. You're a detestable woman, and as ugly as Satan.
I don't choose to be pestered by strange women.
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